He didn't walk away.That was the part I hadn't expected.No slammed doors. No cold words cutting through the air like a blade. He simply reached down, pulled my pajama bottoms back into place, then wrapped his fingers around mine and drew me forward. His dark eyes, the color of bitter chocolate, spoke the only language he seemed comfortable with. Follow me.So I did.He brought me through a room I suspected was his, then into the bathroom beyond it. A deep, wide tub dominated the corner like something from another world. He crossed to it without a word, twisted the faucet, and let the water begin to rise.I stood where he'd left me and didn't move. I was afraid to. It felt like the kind of moment that could shatter if I breathed wrong and then I'd find myself back in Tranquility, staring at the ceiling, completely alone.He returned to me slowly.His fingers lifted to my face, tracing the bruise that had swollen beneath my eye. The touch was barely there feather-light, careful and
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